


Aquaphobia

by iswyn



Series: The Taming of Tony [2]
Category: Iron Man - All Media Types, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, Thor (Movies)
Genre: M/M, PTSD, Shameless Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-29
Updated: 2014-05-29
Packaged: 2018-01-27 02:28:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,237
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1711652
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iswyn/pseuds/iswyn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tony's not much a fan of water since coming back from Afghanistan. Therapy is pretty useless, but there is one thing that can make him forget about his fears.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Aquaphobia

**Author's Note:**

> This was posted on [my tumblr](http://iswyn.tumblr.com/) a while ago, but I figured it wouldn't hurt to share with everyone.

For a few years now, water and I have had a love-hate relationship.

Don’t get me wrong, I know that water is totally necessary for life. I drink it. I shower in it. I brush my teeth with it. I wash my hands with it a dozen times a day. Water isn’t just an everyday necessity. It’s an unconscious occurrence in life. You come in contact with it a hundred times a day without even thinking about it.

The thinking about it is the problem.

Most people never have a reason to give it a second thought. Most people haven’t had their head held under it until it started to creep into their lungs. Most people haven’t had that done over and over again until they agreed to do something morally reprehensible.

So most people don’t randomly stare at bottles of water with trepidation.

Showers were the worst, right after I got home. I couldn’t even look at the bathtub, but I couldn’t go around filthy all the time, so it was the shower. Deliberately dousing my head in water was a feat that required more willpower than I had some days. If I weren’t so vain, I might have just stopped washing my hair and grown dreadlocks.

It’s funny, shaving isn’t a problem at all. It doesn’t involve water coming at my face. A razor blade? Eh. Water? Oh god.

So how I ended up with some kind of shower sex fetish is a little weird.

I was never big into showering with the women I slept with. Showering was always a private thing for me. If I were a shrink, I’d probably say something about metaphorically washing my bad behavior away after a night of drinking and bringing home Bambi, or Kelly, or whatever her name might have been last night. I got up before the sun, showered, and let Pepper toss Bambi out so that I didn’t have to deal with it.

When I started dating Pepper, there was definitely no showering together. I already had my water issues, and frankly, showering with a person is just something that always seemed way too familiar to me. My parents didn’t do it. Of course, I’m pretty sure my parents didn’t have sex, either.

It didn’t help that body wash and shampoo wasn’t enough for Pep. She had to have eight kinds of soap, and shampoo, and conditioner, and moisturizer, and body spray, and by the time she was done it was like this whole hour long production. I didn’t want to shower at all, other than to get clean. I sure didn’t want to hang out in there for half my day. I wanted to get to the lab and get to work. Away from the water.

Great thing about electronic devices? They don’t like water either.

Anyway, the sex thing.

See, this is how it works. For a guy, at least a guy like me, if you want to change his mind about something he doesn’t like, the best way to do it is to make it sexy. If someone can make broccoli sexy, I’m pretty much set.

So here’s my mind at the beginning of the real story, off on this ‘getting tied up by a hot leggy green-eyed god’ kick, and then suddenly he’s hoisting me over his shoulder and dragging me into the bathroom. I’m not gonna lie and say it wasn’t terrifying. It’s just that when you’re already getting turned on by things that you know shouldn’t turn you on, it’s hard to worry about drowning. I was too busy worrying about whether he realized that his manhandling was giving me a huge hard-on.

Silly worry, really. Of course he did.

I had a moment’s hesitation when he turned on the water, but you’re gonna have to give me a pass on this one. I mean, the asshole had tried to kill me like three months earlier. What if he knew about my water thing, and he just wanted to fuck with me instead of fucking me? The fucking was a scary enough idea.

I’m not trying to diss gay dudes. Really, I’m not. I won’t lie and say I never thought about it before him. It’s just that I like women, too. And if I can choose, who wouldn’t make the conformist choice? Wow, that sounded fucking lame. Sorry.

Anyway, he wasn’t screwing around. He just said something fucking sexy that distracted me, and then grabbed me and shoved me into the water.

Right when the water hit my face, when I usually get that obnoxious flutter where my heart used to be, he gave me this weird intense look, and just leaned over and tried to eat me whole. I mean, it’s the only way I can describe it. I’ve been kissed lots of times, in tons of different ways. This was like being kissed by someone who was planning to put me on the menu. I guess that kind of was the plan…

Instead of just shoving me against the wall, which he totally did anyway, he took my hands. It was probably a sappy girly thing to latch onto in my head, but he didn’t just force me against the shower wall. He held my hands.

Fuck, that is pathetic, isn’t it?

Does it sound less lame if I say he did it in a fucking sexy way? Or that he proceeded to bite my neck like he was some kind of fucking vampire, and grind me into the shower wall with his incredible magic dick? It may be the sexiest thing anyone had ever done to me up to that moment. I’d never felt quite so helple... You know what? Nevermind.

By the time I realized that his hand was on my ass, two other things were in play. First, I was way too fucking turned on to call a stop. Two… I admit it. What had happened the night before had me curious. I sort of had a hard rule before that, no one touches Tony Stark’s asshole. It was totally off limits.

Then he went and started fucking up all my rules. He had to be evil, and sexy, and snarky, and… want me. Not too many people that I had any respect for had ever wanted me before.

And here was a hot fucking God in my shower, shoving his fingers up my ass. Because he liked my ass so much that he wanted to fuck it. When he gave me fucking permission to cum, it was like… Well I never had permission before. It was always one of those things that people I slept with accepted because it was ‘the done thing’, but it wasn’t because they _wanted_ me to. They sure as fuck never told me to do it _for them_.

I think he got off, too. Just from grinding against me. From watching me get off by fucking his fingers. Christ, I love his fingers.

Umm, I mean, I like them. He’s talented and stuff.

Then, of all the fucking weird things to do, he washed me. Like, seriously. He took the soap, and washed every inch of my body. Even bigger, he let me do it to him. He just stood there and let me soap up the tenderest bits of him, and run my hands over…

Umm, excuse me a minute. I need to go do something.


End file.
